


flowers in her hair, future in her eyes

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Flowers, Matchmaking Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Hawke and friends are needed at Skyhold. With Varric, Hawke, and Sebastian required in nearly every meeting with the Inquisitor and his people, Merrill is left wholly to her own devices.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solas_is_an_egg (SeedsPlease)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeedsPlease/gifts).



"Wow," Merrill says.

"You said that already," Hawke tells her.

"Repeatedly," Varric adds.

"Wow," Merrill says again. "I… wow."

"Yes, Merrill, you said that," Hawke repeats, louder this time. Sebastian touches her arm and nods to the door. She rolls her eyes magnificently, but turns to follow him. "Ah well, we'll leave you two alone."

Varric snorts and leaves with them. He pauses at the door and leans back in the room. "I'll send someone in to meet you, Daisy. You'll need someone to remind you to eat. Just ask for me, if you need anything."

"Wow," breathes Merrill. She folds her legs up under herself and sits on the floor. She's aware that the others left, but she knows she'll catch up with them later if she can work out all the twists and turns at Skyhold. Besides, she wants some uninterrupted quiet time with the unbroken Eluvian in front of her.

She stares up at it. As an object, a physical thing, it's beautiful. Expertly crafted, with an intricately carved frame and perfect smooth glass. It's gorgeous. But as a symbol? Merrill closes her eyes against the magnitude of it. Her heart tries to twist in her chest, soaring and dropping all at once.

"Truly something, isn't it? It's called an Eluvian, made by the elves of old."

Merrill is careful to wipe the frown off her face before she turns around. "Yes, I know."

"Ah, you are one of the Dalish," says the woman leaning in the doorway. "So you must have heard some of the legends. I could answer any questions you might have, or explain the purpose --"

"Yes," Merrill says again, wondering why this woman keeps putting emphasis on certain words like 'Dalish' and 'some.' "I'm Dalish, and I know plenty about _my_ people and _our_ history. What are your credentials, I wonder?"

"Merrill?" There's a man's voice from behind the woman. Merrill tries to peer past her out into the courtyard. "Excuse us, Morrigan, but Merrill is needed at once."

Merrill springs to her feet and ducks past the woman, heart pounding in her chest. They've been here fifteen minutes, what on earth could be going wrong already? More accurately, she's worried what sort of mess Hawke's gotten into.

There are several people milling about or striding purposefully through the garden, but only one who could be the speaker. Everyone seems to be giving him a respectful berth -- even this Morrigan (who Merrill gets the distinct impression is not a pleasant woman to cross) is glaring, but saying nothing. "Come on then," he says, leading the way without another word.

Merrill follows him through the garden, eyes and ears open for flames, screaming children, or Hawke arm wrestling the Inquisitor (which Varric has specifically warned Hawke to ' **not attempt it** , even as a joke Hawke, I'm serious, he'll crush you.'), but nothing seems amiss.

"I'm sorry," she says latching the door into the Great Hall behind her as they pass through. "What's wrong?"

He flashes a grin over his shoulder at her, but doesn't reply. Merrill feels all at once unsettled and intrigued and like she's missed something. She hates the feeling of missing out.

"What's wrong," he says, escorting her into a wide open rotunda and motioning for her to sit anywhere, "is that that woman is an insufferable crow."

Merrill laughs aloud in shock, letting herself drop down onto a settee that had seen better days. "I... " She's unsure how to respond, especially not knowing who either of these people really are.

"That was a tad spiteful of me," he says, leaning on the desk in the middle of the room. "But, unfortunately, it's also the truth. Varric asked me to look in on you, and I couldn't leave you in her clutches, that would have been truly unkind. I am Solas. Our friend Varric has told me some interesting stories about you."

"Oh, I can't imagine they were that interesting," she says. She's not worried Varric cast in her a bad light exactly… But Merrill knows some of the things she's done aren't entirely wonderful, no matter how they're put. And unfortunately, those stories are probably the most interesting ones about her.

Solas hums under his breath and seems about to say something, but he stays quiet and picks up a book. She knows he's watching her over the top of the pages; he's not subtle about it.

Instead of watching him watch her, she looks around. Everything in Skyhold is new and fascinating to her. Someone's painted a mural on the wall, but it looks unfinished. There's a half-familiar noise coming from above them that Merrill sort of recognizes, and when she looks up to the ceiling, she realizes there's more than one floor opening out into this tall room.

"Birds," she says, spotting the sources of the noise. It's only after she smiles to herself and starts raising a hand to wave to them that she remembers she's being carefully observed. She drops her hand back down.

"The Inquisition's spymaster makes good use of them," Solas says, not looking up from not looking at his book. Merrill is impressed with his dedication to the illusion.

"What a strange and wonderful place," she tells him. "You must be happy here. Well, as happy as the situation allows. With the breach and… You know."

"It's Tarasyl'an te'las," Solas says. Merrill's not sure if this is also meant to be a test. If it is, Solas seems less arrogant about it than the woman at the Eluvian.

She ponders for a moment. "The place that holds the sky back? Away?"

"The place where the sky was held back, I believe, is the exact sentiment."

"I was very close," Merrill says in her own defence.

"Of course," he says. "Admirable indeed."

"You want to ask me something." She leans back on the arm of the settee and waits.

"If you don't wish to speak of it, I understand, but I am utterly fascinated to hear how you rebuilt almost an entire Eluvian from a single shard."

"Well, it's sort of a complicated story…"

* * *

Varric excuses himself from the table, worrying if he stays much longer that the sheer speed at which Cassandra and Hawke are becoming best friends will ruin his life irreparably. Besides, Blackwall is winning almost every hand and is being insufferable about it.

It occurs to him halfway across the courtyard that he hasn't seen Merrill since they got in. He's been chasing Hawke around the keep and dragging her to meetings all day. He heads for the rotunda to make sure she's not killed him with small talk yet. Varric does not know exactly how patient a man Solas is.

He hears the noise just as he opens the door, and he actually has to pause to make sure he's hearing it right. Varric's heard it before, but never at this volume or for this duration.

"I know, right?" The Iron Bull is now behind him, somehow able to walk up silently even with Dorian sound asleep and slung over one shoulder. Varric will never cease to be amazed.

"Weird," Varric says.

"Super weird. But like, nice, I think."

The frown creasing his face lingers for a few seconds too long, though he knows The Iron Bull would have seen it regardless. "Oh sure, sure," he says, aiming for neutrality but hearing himself sounding thoroughly ruffled.

"Aw," says Bull. "I thought you liked the guy. It's nice to hear him laughing like that. He made a friend."

Varric says nothing, still eavesdropping intently. Bull gives him a look and a chuckle. "You go first, I don't want to interrupt them."

"Oh, Varric," Merrill says, looking up with a wide smile when he walks in.

They've put a blanket on the floor and are sitting practically on top of each other. All the traces of the laughter he heard earlier linger on, all soft eyes and gentle smiles. Varric hates that he feels annoyed, because he knows he's got no reason (which just makes him more annoyed at himself, which isn't helping).

"It's late, Daisy. Have you eaten yet?" Varric asks. Solas catches his eye, and is clearly picking up on Varric's unease with the situation. He straightens up and pulls himself away from Merrill. Varric feels a little spark of victory in his chest and then feels like an ass for it. 

Fortunately, Merrill still seems oblivious to all. "Oh yes, I -- we did."

"Great. Do you need me to show you to your room? You're going to be next to Hawke and her Choir Boy. The walls are thick though, so you shouldn't hear the... snoring."

Merrill extricates herself slowly from the cozy elf-nest they made and follows Varric out. He chooses not to see the last, long, lingering look she casts over her shoulder.

* * *

"The book I mentioned," Solas says, putting the book in front of Merrill, between where she and Hawke are writing letters. She claps her hands and grins up at him.

"Thank you, I promise, I'll be very careful with it! And did -- oh, you did!"

"I did," he says. He nods to Hawke, who's giving him an openly perplexed look. "Perhaps when you're finished, we can speak again."

"I'd like that," Merrill says, already turning the pages with awe in her eyes.

"He did what?" Hawke asks, once Solas is off and striding across the hall again.

Merrill shows Hawke a jumbled page of scrawls that Hawke couldn't make sense of in a thousand years. "It's a very old book on elven magic. He's made notes in the margins. Solas has the most interesting take on it all, we had the loveliest conversation…"

Hawke nods, vaguely interested, but unable to keep up with the rate Merrill throws all the complicated terminology. She tosses a look at Varric where he sits behind them, oiling Bianca. He shrugs back, and shakes his head.

* * *

Hawke and Sebastian are released from the endless loop of meetings, strategy sessions, and gentle mocking of Commander Cullen early one afternoon, so Hawke suggests they find Merrill and Varric do something fun.

Varric is elbow deep in paperwork for the Merchant's Guild and he promises to find them as soon as he's able. "Wicked Grace, get Curly, Ruffles, and Tiny. We'll make a night of it."

"Ooh, Curly's had enough of me for one day," Hawke says at the same time that Sebastian lets out a an explosive sigh.

"More like a lifetime, given the look in his eyes," Sebastian corrects her.

Varric chuckles. "Overwhelmed?"

Sebastian is quiet for a moment, with Hawke shifting her weight between them both, glaring but smirking.

"Hunted, I think."

Hawke sighs and kisses his cheek. "Just marry the Commander if you're so worried about him. We'll be back for cards, Varric, I want to take more of your pretty gold."

Merrill isn't hard to find, they quickly learn. She is the same place she's been for almost the entirety of their visit to Skyhold.

"Aw, little cakes?! And you didn't invite me?"

"Hello Hawke," Merrill says, automatically passing some food to Hawke.

Solas smiles at them, though Hawke can tell something else is up. He's definitely not a simple man, far too smart for anyone's good, she's decided. But he was very kind to Merrill, and even if Merrill didn't realize it yet, she had a large crush on the strange, kind elf. Hawke thought it was very cute, though Varric had expressed concerns and Sebastian had told them both to keep their noses out of it.

"Cards?" Hawke asks. "We're done for the day, so we have all evening."

"Solas said he'd teach me Diamondback," Merrill says and Hawke instantly produces a deck of cards from seemingly thin air.

"I'd love to learn… Another time." She drops the cards on the table when she sees the warning look from Sebastian. "You have fun, we've got to leave right now because Sebastian is… ill?"

"Sebastian?" Merrill says, half rising.

"No, no, I'm all right," he says quickly, patting her arm. "Just overtired, I think. We'll take our leave."

"I thought we were going to stay out of it?" Hawke says before they're out of earshot.

"Marian, shush," they hear, right before the door clicks shut.

Merrill picks up the deck and turns it over in her hands. "Cards?"

* * *

A quick trip, the Inquisitor has promised, then straight home again. A week later and they're maybe another day and a half from Skyhold.

"Are you going to tell her you like her?" Varric asks.

Solas opens his eyes and looks across the fire to where Varric is leaning and scribbling something down on parchment. The Inquisitor looks on with interest. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, Chuckles, d'you think any of us are fooled?"

Solas shifts in place and frowns. "I really have no idea what you mean, nor do I think discussing this now--"

"I saw the look on your face the first time she opened her mouth told Morrigan where to go. I was just around the corner. We've all seen it. Plus, I've seen that little booklet you keep for sketching in. You've got a crush, pal."

Inquisitor Adaar starts to snicker, not even having the decency to hide it in a cough.

Solas heaves a sigh. "Another fanciful tale from Master Tethras. I didn't know you approved."

"I'm adjusting. She's a big girl, she can handle herself. I don't think you'll hurt her," Varric says. He doesn't elaborate on why he thinks this.

That may be exactly why Solas has been questioning it himself, but now is neither the time nor company to discuss anything of the sort. "Inquisitor," Solas nods and excuses himself, heading for the tent to get away from the scrutiny.

"You're allowed to be happy, no matter what you think the future holds," Cole reminds him, just when he thinks he's alone.

"Thank you, Cole."

"Sleeping is forgetting, and now awake and remembering all the little things that make people smile--"

" _Good night,_ Cole."

* * *

A few days later, Merrill wakes up to a bundle of lavender on the pillow next to her head. Very curious.

She picks it up and it smells wonderful, of course. She smiles and looks around the tiny room, but there's no sign of anything else out of the ordinary. She tucks a few pieces in her hair and leaves the rest on the bed to freshen the linens.

Curious, but welcome.

* * *

"She found the flowers."

Solas sets his book aside and looks to Cole, lingering by the door. "Flowers?"

"Lavender. Lively in summer, purple and perfect. It's good to smell and good to see, calms the soul and brightens the smile. You like her smile and she likes lavender."

Solas considers the words closely. "That was kind of you," he says.

"She's kind. I like her, but you like her more. You need kindness too, Solas. She wears the flowers in her hair, and smiles back when people smile at her."

"Yes, thank you," Solas says standing and crossing the room to pat Cole on the shoulder.

"You can go find her," Cole tells him after a beat.

Solas opens his mouth to say something else, but decides Cole already knows what he wants to say and leaves it at that.

* * *

"Merrill!"

She turns to see a small knot of people she doesn't know waving her over to where they're standing in the yard.

"Hello there," she says when she reaches them.

"Hello! You're Merrill, friend of the Champion?"

"Did you really kill a varterral?"

"You're Dalish? I could have sworn the stories said you lived in an alienage?"

The questions are flying fast and thick from the moment they start. Merrill can't really discern who is saying what and who she should answer first.

"Hey, everyone shut up!" someone calls out and everyone quiets and gives her a little room. The man doing the shouting introduces himself as Krem.

"We're a mercenary company. Not a lot to do on the road sometimes, but we _loved_ The Tale of the Champion. Dalish still likes to pretend she's you sometimes."

"Oh, Lieutenant, that's embarrassing," says the blushing elf who must be Dalish. Merrill blushes right back.

So she sits with them a while, trading stories and explaining some of the details Varric left out or made up entirely.

"Everyone here's been so nice to me," Merrill says after a while. "So kind."

"It's a good lot here," Krem assures her. Something behind her catches his eye and he grins. "Anyway. Thanks for staying. Come back soon. Chargers, let's get some practice in before the Chief gets back from Val Royeaux and yells himself hoarse."

Not wanting to be in the way, Merrill excuses herself and nearly lands on her back when she turns and crashes right into Solas.

"Oh!"

"Merrill. I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He steadies her with a hand on her arm. Merrill can feel the heat of it through her sleeve.

"My fault," she says. She fumbles again, this time for words. "I'm a little clumsy sometimes."

"Nonsense, you're as graceful as a startled cat." Solas grins at her and she can't help smiling back up at him.

The Chargers are getting rowdy behind them, so Merrill suggests a quick retreat to the battlements, out of the way of the flurry.

"Did you leave me the lavender?" Merrill asks, when things are quieter and they're alone. "I know I spoke of it the other night…"

He shakes his head. "I'm not certain how it found you, and though I believe it is indirectly my fault that it appeared, I can assure you I was not creeping around Skyhold while everyone else was sleeping." He tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, pulling one the flowers free and holding it up.

"I wouldn't mind," Merrill says. She immediately hides her face behind her hands when she realizes the implication of her words. "I didn't mean you should sneak into my room at night. Oh. Oh dear. I didn't mean that you shouldn't -- no. What I think I'm trying to say..." Solas takes her hands in his, not pulling them away from her scarlet cheeks, just holding gently. With the brisk wind whipping up, it was welcome warmth.

"You look lovely with flowers in your hair," he tells her.

She lets her hands drop slowly, feeling his hands slide against hers. "Thank you," she says.

There's a long, still moment, stretching out between them. The wind whistles, and there's the distant noise of people and the occasional loud Tevene curse from Lieutenant Aclassi down below, but it's a moment of peace.

"Lips against my own, her skin on my skin, I can't think of anything else. If she turns away, terse and troubled, I'm torn, but if she smiles, stays, then I am lost. Hopeless, luckless, and here."

Merrill looks up, startled, to see Cole standing a few feet away. The wind catches the edges of his hat makes it bob down over his face. She's had only a few chances to talk to Cole and she's still largely unsure what he means most of the time.

"Thank you, Cole," Solas says. "You've helped immeasurably."

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asks. "You probably should; I've been waiting."

He laughs. "Ah, you should have said something earlier. I'll admit I've spent some time working up the nerve. I'm a touch out of practice."

Merrill kisses him instead of waiting any longer.

When they separate, they're both smiling, but Merrill sees his troubled look. "Did I… Did I do something?"

"Yes," he tells her, but he rushes on when her eyes widen. "A very good thing, I think. I'll need some time to think about it, but… that can wait. Walk with me, I'll tell you about the most incredible thing I saw in my dreams last night…"

She leans on him while they walk, a welcome weight against his arm, and he smells of the last fading remnants of summer from the flowers in her hair. Merrill looks up at him with a soft smile and thoughtful eyes, and he sees his future unfolding.

**Author's Note:**

> Dearest solas_is_an_egg, I wish you the best and hope this last minute pinch hit at least temporarily satisfies your need for Merrill/Solas, a ship so alternating in it's awkward vs sexy and so staunch in it's elfiness that we all must rejoice in it's excellence and hope one day to write something that lives up to the expectation. Your prompt was lovely and I know this definitely got away from it, but I hope it was entertaining to some degree.


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